In the Sight of the Seven
by Samyo
Summary: In times of war, "Everyone goes on. Life must go on. They still think there will be a wedding tomorrow." Sansa POV. Sansa/Stannis. AU fic. Wedding fic. Set years after season 2.


Disclaimer: Own nothing.

Author's Note: AU fic set years after season two so everyone is legal here.

* * *

The line has been stretched too thin. The Lannisters will have their revenge soon. Jaime will have his revenge soon.

The hot winds of the day brought the smell of smoke and blood. We are all one raven away from certain death. A crueler, more terrible death.

I was suppose to be married tomorrow. I was suppose to become Queen tomorrow.

I would no longer be the wolf in the tatters of a lion's coat. I would be Queen for the Stag with the heart of fire. And he would bring the kingdoms together again, and I would give him a true heir, and I would see Winterfell again.

We thought he won the gamble on his race to King's Landing. We were wrong. We were wrong. I was wrong.

My crueler death is coming.

I wish he hadn't come. I wish he secured the North, found true justice for Winterfell.

I would have gone to the Vale with Littlefinger. I should have left with Sandor. I should have left when Father wanted me to.

Night has fallen. A new day will bring the war back down upon us with bloodthirsty vengeance. Perhaps in the morning. Or afternoon. Or evening.

Everyone goes on. Life must go on. They still think there will be a wedding tomorrow.

I wanted to leave the game, but instead got sucked further in.

I am almost at the Godswood. By myself. No one is supposed to know I'm here. I wear my plainest dress. No jewels. I hide my hair under a shawl

Stannis told me to come. To come like this. The man some think is a god but he believes in no gods himself. The saddest man I've ever known.

He told me once I was the bravest woman he's ever known.

I'm not brave. I'm a coward. I'm afraid.

Everyone is busy preparing for either battle or a wedding. And now I am here. The Godswood. And he is standing there, waiting for me.

Did anyone see you?

No.

He holds his hand out, fingers that are too thin. If his men must starve, he must starve, too. His grasp is strong, sword calloused skin touching my own.

I promised no harm would come to you.

As long as I stay here.

He shakes his head.

I promised. No harm will come to you. By Lannister or anyone.

What is this about?

He grinds his teeth, trying to find the right words to say. I squeeze his hand. He is far too tense. The muscles in his neck, shoulders, everywhere.

I'm giving you a choice.

There is pain in his eyes. Those sad, dark, tired eyes.

There is a ship. If you so desire, it will take you to Esteros right now.

And what shall I do there? Try to woo the beggar queen and supposed dragons to your cause?

He shakes his head.

Live. You shall live.

And if I choose to stay?

He looks at me.

There is a Septon waiting in the wood.

Tyrion's last words to me are ringing in my head.

Cersei was the only one responsible for her death. Stannis was merely doing his duty, and his duty comes before any vengeance and hatred. Jaime, I know, will fail to see this. He will blame many, including you, the first girl betrothed to her late beloved Joffrey, the girl who told Stannis that she was in the throne room. He may kill you, he may not. He may rape you, he may not. He may marry you off to likes worse than The Hound or sell you as a toy to fulfill his men's desires, or he may not. But, if you go through with this betrothal, and Stannis falls...You will be raped. You will be killed. It will not be a quick death. And if Stannis is taken alive, you will be made to suffer in front of him until the man they say is made of iron finally breaks. And he will break, like Robert did, like Renly would have if given a chance. I have seen the way he looks at you. The guards and servants whisper of the moments you and the King thought you were alone...

When do you leave for battle?

Sometime in the morning. The sooner the better.

As I touch your face you seem to relax.

If you didn't want me to stay you wouldn't have given me a choice.

I know you want to say this isn't about wants, but you refrain. You are allowed to want me. You are allowed to need me. I know you want me. I know you need me.

We shouldn't keep the Septon waiting.

* * *

In the sight of the Seven.

Gods that abandoned us both long ago.

I hereby seal these two souls.

Orphaned, slighted, neglected.

Binding them as one.

Forged in snow and ash and blood.

For eternity.

And may our ends not be crueler deaths.

Look upon one another and say the words.

Your mask is a scowl. Mine is a smile.

Father.

You are a just man.

Smith.

A hardworking man.

Warrior.

A soldier till the day you die.

Mother.

I am just a woman.

Maiden.

Who learned to walk the fine line between truth and lies.

Crone.

Respected because I didn't die a thousand times.

Stranger.

We both should have died a thousand times.

I am his and he is mine.

I don't want you to die.

From this day.

I don't want to die.

Until the end of my days.

We have both come too far to die.

* * *

Your fingers trace the scar Cersei's guard gave me on my side, curved like a crescent moon. I can feel your hot breath, full of lust, on my neck. I can feel your body, now relaxed, up against my back.

As we lay here, my eyes closed, I remember, vaguely, old childish notions. Notions born out of songs and misconceptions and gossiping maidens. Then the memories of Joffrey and the mob come back. And then fears of losing you come rushing in.

I feel you kiss my neck. The fear disappears.

Can I safely assume there will be no wedding tomorrow?

Today. It is already tomorrow.

The ladies helping me get ready for the ceremony might be alarmed to find my bed empty.

You snuggle into my neck and wrap an arm around my waist.

And when Jon goes searching for me and finds me in yours.

I am his King, and you are my wife.

* * *

The sky is dark but birds are chirping. You help tie up my dress. I slip back into the guise of a maiden.

Its your duty to me to come back alive. Its your duty to the ones that call you King to come back alive. You are not allowed to sacrifice yourself. Enough have done that already and everything is worse because of it. For me. For your daughter. For everyone and everything that has been ripped away from us. You come back.

I kiss you like I'll never see you again. Love is the death of duty, I know that. I've seen my world ripped apart because of it. Though many do not love you, will never love you, I want you to know I'm not them. I know we'll never say the words properly, but every time we touch, meet our eyes meet in a glance, the words never said will always be there.

* * *

The room is tense. All the men are armored for war, swords at the ready in their sheaths. Littlefinger gives me that cruel smile as Varys whispers something in his ear. I wonder if they think if last night was my idea. There's no way they wouldn't find out about last night.

No time is wasted. We are wed again in front of countless witnesses that could be our enemies tomorrow. King Stannis, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, crowns me his Queen.

* * *

Stannis never wears a crown into battle. He mostly doesn't wear it all. Crowns don't make kings, only the Iron Throne can.

My crown is slightly heavy on my brow, but I will get used to it. I know it doesn't make me Queen, only the King on the Iron Throne does.

Before he leaves, he does not make me kiss his sword, though I would if it would make it strike down any man that keeps him from coming back to me. I do not tell him that I will pray for his safe return, though I will, every night, and every day, until he comes back to me. I place my hands on his armor, on his heart of fire.

Never forget your duty, My King.

He puts both his hands on top of mine, his eyes staring into mine.

To my Queen and Kingdom. Always.

* * *

Please review. Anons are welcome.


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